Category Archives: Retirement Abroad

Little Things Mean A Lot

Most of us live in a “wired” world with our cell phones, computers, Kindles, iPads and the like. Lots, if not most, expats here in Panama have access to a computer so they can stay in touch with family and friends back “home.”  Panamanians are hugely into the wired world. Every day I ride the bus there are several sitting through the ride texting away like crazy on their “smart” phones. Or they’re showing each other next the photos they’ve taken with their phones.

Facebook, of course, is huge all over the world for those who can log on to a computer, down here in Panama, too. And for those who can’t afford their own computers there are cyber-cafes all over in Panama City and the wonderful Info Plazas that I’ve written about before. Every time I go to the Plaza in Boquerón there are kids working away on their Facebook pages. One of the young girls who translated my book into Spanish has a Facebook page. She has 533 “friends” and, get this, 1,517 photos.

But we forget there’s a whole other world out there that isn’t plugged into the matrix. There are a lot of people here in Panama who don’t “log on” to a computer and there are a lot of people who don’t have even a single photo of themselves or their loved ones.

There’s a young gringo living in David by the name of Ryan Grassley who goes by the moniker Halfthrottle.

Ryan rides his motorcycle around Panama with his cameras (video and still) making some wonderful short films. Recently he went into the Ngabe-Bugle “Comarca” with his cameras and a battery-powered photo-printer. The following Halfthrottle film shows that while a picture is worth a thousand words a little thing like a photo given away can mean a lot to people who have probably never seen a picture of themselves in their life.

 

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Rain Just Part Of Life In Panama

It should be no surprise to anyone if I told you its been raining all morning here. But if you’ve been following this blog you already know that its the rainy season in Panama for nearly two-thirds of the year.

Rain is just a part of life here in Panama. Unless it’s coming down at a rate of six inches an hour and wiping out bridges and causing landslides that devour houses people just get on with their lives. After all, what are the alternatives?

I first noticed this behavior when I was living over in Boqueron. One of my neighbors has a very large yard and the kids from all over would come there to play. One of their favorite games was a form of baseball. One day it started to pour but it didn’t interrupt the game for a moment. I used to laugh at gringo behavior I’d see when working at the family restaurant at the beach back home in the summers. People would come down to the beach and frolic in the water all day long. But let three or four drops of rain fall out of the sky and everyone would high-tail it to their cars. Not here.

Yesterday I went up to Boquete with a nearby gringo couple and Magalys, the maid we share. Magalys’s son’s band was supposed to be playing at an event sponsored by the local Lion’s Club. Shortly after we arrived it started raining, of course. But unlike in the States where things would probably have been postponed until another day, the show just went on.

Kids from a local school stood in the rain and played their instruments completely oblivious to the steady rain.

Adults had their moments, too, performing in the wet.

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The Survivors

Just a few weeks “Columbus Day” was celebrated in the United States by almost everyone except the Native Americans. The coming of the white man nearly destroyed the native population. The Europeans brought dreadful diseases with them that wiped out entire populations of the people who were already living here. A simple case of the sniffles would rampage through villages leaving a wake of destruction which was to the indigenous people what the Black Death was to the Europeans.

It occurred to me recently riding on the bus with half a dozen Ngäbe Indians that these were the descendants of the strong. The survivors.

Sunday I went with some gringo and Panamanian friends up to Boquete for a special program being put on by the Lions Club. I caught these photos of some of the survivors.

Since it’s the rainy season here we weren’t disappointed and I caught this snap of a young girl who was hiding out from the showers under a tree.

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Down At The Depot

Some time ago I’d written a post describing an old Bert & I skit where a rugged Down-Easter had won a free trip to Boston for a week. When he returned and people asked him what Boston was like he said, “There was so much going on at the depot I didn’t get a chance to see the village.”

Well, the bus terminal here in David is sort of like that. I’ve alluded to it before in quite a few posts. It’s one of my favorite places in all of Panama, so I thought I’d give you more of an idea of what the place is like.

It takes up quite a bit of space…

If you’re heading to Panama City you go to this area…it’s in the upper right corner of the photo above…

You can see one of the modern double-deck, air conditioned buses waiting to load on the right. Buses leave almost every hour for Panama City and there is even an “express” bus that leaves late at night and knocks about an hour off the seven-hour trip. But I’ve never been tempted to take that one because you miss all the scenery along the way by doing that. The last time I took the bus to the city was to do the paper work necessary to get my driver’s license. The fare, one way, was $18 and change with the Jubilado discount.

There’s a hotel at the terminal but I can’t imagine what it must be like to stay there.

The terminal and the surrounding area is about more than just transportation. Across the street there are five stores selling all kinds of feed for animals as well as huge quantities of rice. The other day when I was down there, without my camera, of course, you could buy baby rabbits and quail. There are always young chicks for sale. They cost 50¢ each, or for a buck and a half you can get one of these…

Even in this day and age horses are a daily mode of transportation for many Panamanians…

And if you’re in need of a new saddle, well, just drop in at the terminal. I saw two different stores selling saddles there today and one in a store across the street.

Typical Ngöbe Indian dresses for little girls are available. Boys wear jeans and tee shirts…

More than a dozen people sell lottery tickets every day at the terminal. Panamanians LOVE to play the lottery and they go from one vendor to another looking for their special number. There are no “quick picks” here. If your number doesn’t come up you can use the pharmacy behind the vendor to buy something to calm your jangled nerves…

You can find out if you need to go to the pharmacy by having your blood pressure checked…

Not into pharmaceuticals? Well, an apple a day, they say…and grapes and strawberries are just nice to bring home with you for later…

Hungry? There are three fondas serving comida corriente, two cafeterias and a pizza place at the terminal…

After you’ve eaten your fill, if you’re a lady you can get your hair done at one of the three hair salons…

Or you guys can visit my barber and get a $2 cut…

There are also18 kiosks all selling approximately the same stuff…bottled water and soft drinks, bags of chips, empenadas, candy, ice cream, etc…

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Trip to Boqueron

Yesterday I took a trip out to Boquerón. I wanted to see what was going on with the collapsed bridge  to see what damage had been done to the house I’ll be renting and the lot behind the house.

I was mistaken about the bridge location. It’s further to the west on the Interamerican Hwy. Between David and  Boquerón there’s a similar set of bridges a short ways before where you have to turn off to go up to the pueblo. The price of the ride from the terminal in David has gone up from 50¢ to 60¢ since the last time I went there, but it’s still an outrageous bargain compared to riding on public transportation anywhere in the States.

The damage done to the lot behind the house was much greater than I’d expected. There used to be a chain link fence around the property and the lot was full of grass and weeds. A footpath ran down the side of the lot and around behind it. It was used daily by Indians who live on the other side of the river down in that direction. They’d wade across the river and then walk up to the main road to catch the buses. It was a much shorter route for them to get to transportation that way.

As a point of reference take a look at this video I shot last year. At about the 33 second mark you are looking back up the footpath back towards the house. You can see the chain link fence that marked the lot and you can see some trees growing at the side of the river.

Here’s what it looks like from roughly the same spot today.

This is looking in the other direction, down towards the back of the lot.

Here are some of those trees.

Take a close look at this picture. You can see where the water level was this morning and it’s usually like this. Now, note how high the bank is above the water level. During the storm the water must have come up at LEAST 12 feet or more.

While the torrent didn’t wash anything away on our lot, water apparently did get inside the house. It has been described to me as being quite a “mess inside.” I haven’t got a clue to that means. The gate was locked so I couldn’t even get on the lot to try and peer inside. I just got the phone number of the neighbor girl who is looking out for things and I’ll try and get in touch with her over the weekend. I’m sure there’s a lot of mud inside though I have no idea how high the water might have risen. I didn’t see any waterline left on the side of the house. I’m sure there’s a lot of mud in there. The river, which is usually clear enough to see the rocks on the bottom was the color of coffee this morning five days after the storm. I was also told that, as of a couple of days ago, there was no water service in the neighborhood. That happens all over the place because the sediment clogs up the filtration systems at the water plants and they usually don’t have spares on hand. Also, the water infrastructure is definitely “third world,” and mainly consists of PVC piping and most of it just runs along top of the ground.

Well, it’s all part of the adventure of living in a developing country, though they didn’t seem to fair much better in Vermont from that last hurricane than we did in this tempest.

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Rainy Season Disaster

This year’s rainy season in Panama hasn’t been setting records like it did last year, but it’s been bad enough. Yesterday it got even worse.

Panama loves baseball. Nearly every town has a baseball field or some kind for Little League games and there are adult teams as well. There’s a professional league here and David has a team and the games are always well attended.  American major league baseball is closely followed and the standings and box scores are recorded daily in all the country’s newspapers. Several Panamanians play in the major leagues in the States and without a doubt Mariano Rivera, the relief pitcher playing for the Yankees, is the most famous.

Last month Rivera became baseball’s all-time saves leader at an amazing 602 and counting!

Currently Panama is hosting the World Cup of Baseball. Teams from all over the world have descended on this small country to compete in what is truly the WORLD SERIES of baseball. Everyone knows there are rain delays in baseball, but two days ago in Panama City rain stopped the games before they even started. Heavy rains literally flooded Rod Carew (A “Zonian” born to a Panamanian mother on a train in the town of Gatún and Baseball Hall of Famer) Stadium canceling the scheduled game between the United States and Japan.

But that’s the light side of the rainy season here. Yesterday saw death and disaster here in Chiriqui Province.

As I do every Monday I took the bus down to David to do my grocery shopping. You have to do things like that early because it’s guaranteed to rain in the afternoon. I almost made it home before it started. I had to walk from the bus stop to the house in a light rain but then it started to pour. An inundation for sure. It made rain like this…

…seem like a mere drizzle.

It’s was the kind of rain that turns normally placid streams like this one beside the house in Boquerón…

…into raging torrents like this in a matter of minutes.

This morning I woke to find that the deluge had caused the bridge crossing the Rio Piedras (Stone River) on the Interamerican Highway west of David to collapse.

 

Taking the bus from Boquerón to David I had to cross over that bridge. The river is quite wide there but normally it’s just a wide expanse of sand and large boulders with a trickle wending it’s way from the mountains in the north to the Pacific Ocean. I never liked that bridge. The rain also caused two smaller bridges in the area to collapse as well. Fortunately no one was on either of the bridges when they fell, but a worker further up the river who worked on the construction of a hydroelectric project was fatally buried in a mudslide and an Indian was swept away in the torrent of another river but their fate is yet unknown.

 

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Thinking of a move to Panama? Read This First

There is a feature for WordPress bloggers called “Tag Surfer.” It hones in on what other bloggers have written that you have expressed an interest in. Today I found a post by an unknown (there’s no”About” section attached to the blog so I don’t know who wrote it. It’s called:

http://livingtheamericandreamineurope.wordpress.com/

And the title of the post was: “So, You Want To Move To Europe? Part Two I have to admit I didn’t see Part One.

Anyway, the unknown author presented an article from Cracked.com and the post:

http://www.cracked.com/article_19363_6-reasons-your-plans-to-move-abroad-might-not-work-out.html

Now, Cracked.com is a humor site, but there’s a lot of truth in this post. Here are the six reasons given and I’ll add my own notes but you need to read the article for yourself if you’ve ever thought about moving to Panama or any other country that’s not your own…

#6. The People There Probably Don’t Want You

Personally I haven’t met anyone here in Panama like that, but I know they exist. My lawyer told me once that she has friends who don’t like gringos. Hey, I understand. I don’t like most of them either.That isn’t to say I don’t have some gringo friends here, but for the most part I avoid gringos. I went to the Tuesday Market in Boquete once and I shudder to think of ever having to go back again. I bought what I came to get and left as soon as possible. But then again, I do that with shopping in general. That may have something to do with sex. (No, not THAT kind of sex. Sex as in which one you were born into.) Most women go love to go “shopping.” That doesn’t mean they’re going to buy anything when they go, but that’s the term most women use. Men, on the other hand when they have something they want or need to get, they go to the store, find the item or items, pay for them and leave.

#5. Their Governments Don’t Want You, Either

Panama is a little bit different. They are actually trying to make it easy for people, retired people that is, to move to this small country where they will voluntarily spend their retirement income.

#4. Other Countries Treat Illegal Immigrants Worse Than America

Who knows about Panama? I do know, that despite having a Pensionado Visa, and am “legal,” I am perpetually a guest in this country and can be told to leave at any time for any reason or no reason at all. I hope I never have to find out how their extradition process works.

#3. What You Hate About America, You Find Everywhere

Now this is spot on. Don’t think moving somewhere else is going to change a lot of things. I never went to McDoo Doo’s in the States and I’m NOT going to go to one here. But I hate having to go all the way to Panama City for some tasty, spicy fried chicken. LOVE that chicken from Popeyes. Pio Pio just doesn’t cut it and KFC which is here in David, gets the same treatment as Mc Doo Doo’s. Didn’t eat it there won’t here, either. Same thing goes for Domino’s, Pizza Hut and TGIF,, all of which have a presence here in David.

#2. Adapting Will Be Harder Than You Can Imagine

I think this is something most new expats never really expect. Good old CULTURE SHOCK. It’s GOING to happen to you. There’s no way you can avoid it. You’re not in Kansas anymore. Again, personally, I haven’t been hit with culture shock here even though I’ve been “in country” for a year and a half. And I think I know why. About six months into my three year stay in France culture shock punched me in the gut. I wanted to leave. But I had a job that I said I’d do and I stuck it out. Things got better. Then, about six months after I got back to the States I experienced culture shock again. I wanted to go back to France so bad you can’t believe how much. But I didn’t have the money to do so, so I stuck it out and things got better, sort of. Now, I think having gone through two bouts of culture shock before I’ve simply learned to take things as they come. Things aren’t going they way you want them to? Well, TOUGH TITTY! That’s the way things are…DEAL WITH IT!

#1. You Will Likely Just Hang Out With Other Americans

This is definitely true for WAY TOO MANY GRINGOS who move here and settle around Boquete and Volcan. Not that there’s anything inherently wrong with that but it’s just not how I want to live here. Yes, as I said, I do have gringo friends here but, by and large, I avoid most gringos as if they had some kind of infectious disease. But that’s just me. Your mileage may differ.

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Surrender

Let me say in my defense that I am not a complete Luddite. I have had a computer for over 15 years but it took me a while to overcome the technophobia attached with such a purchase. At the time I was living on a small sailboat so a desk-top model was out of the question and the price of a notebook back then was simply out of the question. Not only was it a question of space and money but it centered around what I wanted to do with the equipment. All I wanted to do then was to write about the previous five years in France, sailing across the Atlantic and my single-handed, nine-month trip to Mexico, Belize and Guatemala, and I couldn’t justify the expense of a notebook computer to do that and to play a few games when I got bored.

One day when I was at one of the big box stores looking at the notebooks I came across a Brother notebook word processor. Perfect. It would do what I wanted and it was about a fifth of the cost of a “real” notebook computer. It also had a version of the Tetris game which I became really, really good at. But the machine was also very, very, I mean molasses slow. I believe it probably used an old 286 chip and you had to store whatever you’d written onto a floppy disk. Remember those? It wasn’t one of the big floppies but the ones with the plastic shell. As my stories got longer it took forever for the machine to work its way to the end so I could continue writing.

In 1994 the Pentium chip was introduced to the market and I boldly entered the computer age. But my Luddite gene did influence my purchase. My first notebook had a 486 processor, not a Pentium. Naturally the prices were slashed on the 486 hardware and I also figured it was probably better to have the last of the old technology than it was to have the first of the new that didn’t have all the kinks worked out of it. I was very happy with that piece of equipment. It had MS Word on it and when I wanted to get to the end of a piece I was working on it went there instantly instead of taking two or three minutes, literally, for the old word processor to work its way to the last word in a story.

I am not technophobic, but you’re not going to find me camping out all night waiting to be one of the first to buy a new iPad or anything like that. I don’t have a “smart” phone. The one I have is a “dumb” phone. It does one thing. It makes phone calls. Period.

Now, I love to read. Have since I was a kid. I mean when I took the standardized tests in school I had the reading level of a college freshman before I even hit junior high. But when Amazon came out with the Kindle and Barnes & Noble introduced the Nook I didn’t run right out and buy one. No, I like “dead tree” books. No way did I need or was I going to buy one of those electronic doo hickies.

But I moved to Panama. Do you have any idea how hard it is to find books in English here? There’s a terrific used book store in Dolega called the Bookmark and they fill a very big niche. But over the years of living on boats I’ve developed an aversion to collecting books. They’re big and bulky and a real pain in the old wazoo when you move from one place to another.

But still I avoided the temptation to buy an electronic reader even though I wrote and published a book that is only available in electronic form. I got my reading material in a couple of ways that bow to modern technology. I subscribed to Audible.com and download wonderful books to my iPod. Yes, I’ve had one of those for quite a few years and it’s loaded down with over 3,000 songs. I “read” 40 hour-long books when I would take my dog Penny for her afternoon walks and I listened to books when I was living in Boqueron and didn’t have a television. Listening to audio books takes me back to the days of my early childhood when I’d sit on my maternal grandfather’s lap and we’d listen to the evening news with H. V. “There’s gooood news tonight” Kaltenborn, Jack Benny, Amos and Andy et al on the big console radio in the living room together.

I’d also discovered Project Gutenberg with over 36,000 free public domain ebooks. I’d download the ones I wanted, copy them and paste them into a Word document and save that into a special folder in My Documents to be read at my leisure.

When it was announced that Amazon had come out with an app you could download for free that simulated their Kindle for your PC or Mac, I did it instantly. The only problem with this solution is that it’s not easy to read a book outside in a hammock. The glare on the notebook’s screen makes it nearly impossible to read. Besides that the computer is heavy, it gets damned hot sitting on your stomach or in your lap and the battery life is quite limited.

Slowly I developed the urge to actually get a Kindle or my own. Trying to get one delivered down here isn’t easy. First of all there is no home mail delivery and I don’t have a mailbox at the post office. Also there are no real addresses. For example, on the water bill the address for the house in Boqueron is listed as “The two-story house near the health clinic.” Personally, I think that’s priceless. I mean no company in the States is going to deliver something to The two-story house near the health clinic, Boqueron, Republica de Panama.

There is a gringo couple I know who live in the third house up the mountain from me. They’re in the States right now but will be returning in October. I thought that I’d buy a Kindle, have it delivered to them in Montana and have them bring it to me. Since they could declare it as their own personal property it would circumvent having to pay import duties on it. So, I’d only have to wait another couple of months or so and I could have my own Kindle and be able to lay out in the hammock and read on a lazy, rainy afternoon. That’s like every afternoon, folks, since we’re now deep into the rainy season here.

Then I saw a post on the Yahoo “Gringos in David” group from someone who said they were coming to Boquete and did anyone here need anything brought down from the States. A Kindle is quite small and light and wouldn’t take up much luggage space so I immediately got in touch with Al and we made arrangements for him to bring down a Kindle for me. We got together this past Thursday and voila as they say in Antibes, here it is along with the holder I bought to protect it:

I’ve used it in the hammock and it’s great. Yesterday I spent a lot of time riding buses. I went from  home to Bugaba to buy some cigars from the factory there and then from there to Boquete to pick up the charger for the Kindle since Al forgot it when he came to Potrerillos to give me the unit. Then I had to ride the bus back down from Boquete to Dolega in order to get the bus back to Potrerillos. In all I was on the road for nearly eight hours and while I ususally listen to an audio book while riding on the buses I read my Kindle instead. On the ride from David to Bugaba a young guy sat next to me who was fascinated with the Kindle. He’d never even heard of such a thing. So, it’s turned out to be a way of meeting people, too. Turns out the young man is a border patrol agent. He showed me his I.D. I guess if I ever have any problems trying to get into or out of Costa Rica I’ll have someone I can appeal to. Who knows?

 

 

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The Texas Of Panama

Texas has always had an inflated opinion of itself. Growing up, of course, it prided itself as the “biggest” state in the Union and I was delighted when Alaska became a state and relegated Texas to second fiddle status. In the last year there has been talk about them seceding and becoming several additional states instead of just the one.

Here in Panama Chiriqui Province, where I’m living, the people have a similar opinion of themselves. Chiricanos have a distinct “pride of place.” They almost see themselves as a country in and of themselves, and would probably secede themselves if it was possible. The highest point in the country, Volcan Barú is located here. It is often considered the “bread basket of Panama.” In the highlands around Volcan and Cerro Punta you’ll find huge fincas growing a wide variety of vegetables. There are large cattle ranches in Chiriqui as well as some of the finest coffee plantations found anywhere in the world. On the dashboards of the majority of cars here you’ll see not only the Panamanian flag but that of Chiriqui Province as well. Men wear baseball caps embroidered with the name “Chiriqui” on them. The pueblo of Boquete here in Chiriqui is touted by such publications as Forbes and Money magazines as one of the top 10 places to retire abroad.

Whether this pride is deserved or not isn’t for me to say. I simply note it as a fact.

As I wrote in a previous post I am enjoying listening to “Tipica” music and when I go to bed at night I hit radio station WCHT which specializes in the music. Last night, though, I forgot to set the sleep timer and about two in the morning the following song woke me up…

But let’s not think Chiriqui is the only province with pride of self.  Herrera province, which is actually the only other place in Panama I thought of settling down in has its own anthem sung by Karen Peralta who sang the song above.

This form of tipica music is known as “Tamborito.” Wikipedia says, “Tamborito, literally translated to “the Little Drum”, is a genre of Panamanian folkloric music and dance dating back as early as the 17th century. The Tamborito is the national song and dance of Panama. The dance is a romantic, couple’s dance, often involving a small percussion ensemble, and in all versions; a female chorus. The Tamborito is performed in formal costumes in front of large, interactive crowds that form a large circle around the performers. The members of such crowds often participate in the percussion of the song as well as the actual dance itself[1]. The Tamborito is most commonly performed during Panamanian festivals, and in particular, the Panama Carnival.” For the whole post go here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tamborito

And the Tamborito dancing starts at an early age as I saw in the Mother’s Day celebration in Boqueron last November.

Panama opens itself to me anew every day.

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Two Nights – No Lights

We’re just starting the rainy season here. A little rain each day after weeks of none at all. And yesterday we had our first real drenching downpour in a long time.

Wednesday morning started wet and dreary. Rain and then fog. I usually meet with a group of gringos who get together on Wednesday mornings to practice speaking Spanish with each other, but with the fog cutting visibility down to about a hundred yards at 8:30 I wasn’t about to risk the bus ride down the mountain. Bummed me out because I would be missing my third session in a row. However things cleared up around 10 and I went down to David to do some grocery shopping.

When I got back to the house around 3:30 it was raining pretty heavily and there was no power at the house. This isn’t too unusual around here when it’s raining so I gave it little thought. But as afternoon turned to dusk and still no lights I began to worry and then when I saw lights in the houses below and above me I was a little peeved. Fortunately I have a couple of lanterns and the stove uses gas so I was able to eat. Of course there was no internet connection and I get testy when I can’t get online at will. I like to read and there are some books here at the house I’ve never read so I wasn’t at a complete loss for something to do and I ripped through The Long Walk by Slavomir Rawicz. It’s about seven prisoners who escaped from a Siberian camp in the Soviet Gulag just at the beginning of the Second World War. They walked from the camp near the Arctic Circle to India. They walked  across the Gobi Desert. Eventually four of them made it to India.

In the morning I went to the home of Feli and Alba, my nearest neighbors and asked if they’d had lights the night before. Alba said they had and then went into the house and returned with my light bill in her hand and an attitude of “oh, here.” The bill was 30 days past due and the power had been shut off. Now here in Panama the bill is hand delivered since there is no mail delivery. There are no real addresses, either. My electric bill in Boqueron had an address of “the two-story house near the health clinic.” (You’ve got to love that.) Here in Potrerillos the bill is given to Feli who then passes it on to me, but right now he’s working off in the mountains planting tomatoes and Alba…well, who knows.

Anyway, I hightailed it down to Dolega where I paid the $48.36 due and a reconnection fee of $10.99. The woman at the Union Fenosa branch office said the electricity should be on by the time I returned home. Well, it wasn’t. I called the company around 1:30 in the afternoon and they said it should be turned on by 3:30. It wasn’t. I called again at 4:00 and was assured I’d have power soon. Then came our downpour for the next couple of hours. I called again at a quarter to six and was told the man who reconnects the power doesn’t work after six.

So, another night without lights. I listened to Bryce Courtney’s Brother Fish on my iPod until the battery died and then ripped through The Diving Bell and the Butterfly by Jean-Dominique Bauby before turning in for the night.

Now, I’m getting a little worried because everything in the freezer is starting to thaw out. Not a good situation because there’s a lot of food there and I sure can’t eat it all before it goes bad.

This morning, at 9:30 the power got turned on again. Whew. Most of the stuff in the freezer is a bit soft but we’ll just see how things develop.

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